


Pain and Comfort

by westyellowgroom



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Author is dyslexic, Dom John Watson, Light BDSM, M/M, Not Beta Read, POV John Watson, Post S4, Sub Sherlock Holmes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-07
Updated: 2017-11-20
Packaged: 2019-01-10 00:48:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 20,440
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12287709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/westyellowgroom/pseuds/westyellowgroom
Summary: Post S4 - Sherlock needs John; John does his best





	1. Before

After Euros blew up the flat, Sherlock and I were renovating the place. I stayed over a few times with Rosie as I was too tired to go back to my place. After a couple of times Sherlock asked that I move back in, his god-daughter was more than welcome too. I jumped at the chance! Since we were renovating the place we could extend into the attic and make another bedroom and half-bath upstairs. Mrs. Hudson was thrilled as we were paying for all the work.

Between Mary’s life insurance and estate there was enough for me not to have to worry about money for a while. I took some time off from the clinic after I moved back into Baker Street. Molly had Rosie, she was going to keep her until tomorrow afternoon as we (Sherlock & I) hadn’t had a good night sleep in days due to a case. 

Sherlock and I just finished an involved case for Lestrade. He called us in to help solve a series of locked room murders. It took 5 days and a chase across rooftops (again!) to catch our killer. He was rather determined not to go to jail but we nabbed him in the end. Thankfully neither of us were hurt apprehending our suspect. We gave our statements at NSY then headed home; 221B Baker Street.

Sherlock was in full strop mode. He showered then wrapped himself in a sheet and wandered about the flat. He had not slept for days and he needed to rest but his mind would not shut off. After the second hour of not being able to sleep due to the scratching of the violin I felt sorry for Mrs. Hudson and myself and went to do something about it!

“SHERLOCK!! It’s 2am! Quit torturing your violin and go to bed, you must be exhausted. You haven’t slept for days, you need to rest.”

“My mind John, it won’t shut off. Help me?” he pleads

“What do you require? I’ll do whatever you need from me… I’m here to help” not knowing what was on his mind.

“You’re sure?” I nodded. “Wait here, please keep an open mind…” he flounced back to his room. Returning in with a box I had seen under his bed while vacuuming. “I, I hope this doesn’t put you off, but I found it helped in the past. I don’t need it often but it does help, it’s been awhile. I sure hope you can help me John.” 

I’d never known my friend to ramble on as such before. I steeled myself to accept whatever it was. “I said I would help, and I will do my best Sherlock.” I was glad I took that extra step.

“Thank you John.” With that he placed the box on the coffee table and opened the lid. 

I was not fully prepared to find the items inside. It must have shown on my face, but I did keep my voice steady thankfully. “Is that… a riding crop? What do you want me to do with it?” I had my suspicions but I needed him to voice them. I didn’t realize he was a Sub, I would have never guessed!

“Don’t be an idiot John, you know what a crop is used for. I trust you, or I would never have asked.”

“Yeah, thanks. I know what it’s used for. Ok. Let’s talk about this. You know I have anger management issues.” Sherlock starts to protest. “I’m not saying ‘no’. I’m just saying ‘not now’. I need to know what exactly it is you need from me and if I can give it to you. I’ve never done anything like this before.” I pick up the crop and notice a paddle, leather cuffs and a rope; there is more in the box I can’t see. “I don’t know want to hurt you accidently.”

“John, I trust you. We can go as slow as you need but I require release before I can relax enough to sleep.”

“I get that Sherlock, I don’t want to hurt you. I’ve done enough of that already. Are you really sure you want me to do this? Release? You mean an orgasm? Wouldn’t, um, uh, masturbation work? I don’t want you to resent me if this doesn’t work out. I enjoy being your flatmate and friend; I don’t want to jeopardize that.”

“Self-release isn’t as effective, it doesn’t always work. Besides I did that in the shower already” he huffs “I need you in my life John, nothing will change that.” He starts to pace again, agitated.

“Ok. What say I bring you to orgasm without hitting you? It would be best to discuss what-all is in the box when we are well rested. Yeah?”

“As you keep saying you aren’t gay John. Will you be ok with this?”

“No I’m not gay, but I am bisexual. It’s all fine. So, your room or mine?” I smile as I put the crop back in the box.

“After all this time you still surprise me John.” He has a large grin he reserves for only me. “Your room, you’ll be more comfortable there.”

I turn and go back up the stairs, Sherlock follows me. When he comes through the door I turn and cup my hands on either side of his face and pull him down for a kiss. I have wanted to do that for years! He is stiff at first but relaxes into it and soon has his lips parted. As we kiss deeper and deeper his knees start to weaken and the sheet drops. He is already hard; I am not far behind.

My hands move down his body and I slowly turn him and aim him toward the bed. When the back of his knees hit the bed I gently lower him down and climb on top of him. He parts from my lips long enough to tell me “too many clothes”. I sit up and strip out of my pajamas as fast as I can. 

I start to work my way kissing down his neck to suck on his pulse point. My fingers play with his sensitive nipples. I work my way down toward his left nipple and suck and bite it; I pinch the right nipple with my right hand. He is so responsive, arching his back and moaning. I slowly move my left hand down his body, caressing his hip down to his thigh. 

At this point I want to be certain this is what he wants, I know we talked earlier but I need to know. “Tell me what you want Sherlock.”

“John” he moans

Again I ask “Tell me what you want Sherlock, I need to know.”

“You” he sighs

“How do you want me?” I don’t want to assume anything. I’m still teasing his nipples.

“You John, inside me.” he groans

“Oh God yes!” I stop what I am doing and open my bedside drawer and bring out a condom and a bottle of lubricant.

I open the condom and put it on myself before I become too sensitive. Popping open the lube I put a generous amount in my hand. I reach up with my clean hand and grab a pillow. “Lift your hips.” I put the pillow under his hips then swallow his cock down in one go. 

“John!” 

I slowly fellate him as I slowly open him up. I have wanted him for so long, I need him to enjoy this so he’ll want to do this again. I get two fingers in and find his prostate quickly, I am a doctor after all! Sherlock arches his back and screams out “John!” I find I love him reduced to only being able to say my name. 

By the time I get three fingers into him he’s is panting and sweating. Pre come is leaking out of his gorgeous cock. He groans out “John, please. John I need you. Please” he moans. 

I can’t resist him. I add more lube to myself then line myself up and slowly enter. It’s heavenly; he is so tight and hot. When I’m seated I bend down and tease his nipples. I tease him until he groans out “move”.

I slowly start to thrust in and out, changing my angle until I find hit his prostate with each plunge. I want this to last and stay at a slow and steady pace building us both up. As I near orgasm I wrap my lubricated hand around his cock and start to pump in time with my thrusts. He is a sweating, moaning, mess beneath me, he is so beautiful.

He comes hard with my name on his lips. I follow a couple of thrusts later with his name on mine. When I can breathe again, I slowly pull out and throw the condom in the bin. I hold him while caressing his back, waiting while our heartbeats slow down to a more normal pace. I grab the blanket and pull it up over us, I’m falling asleep. He starts to move “Where are you going?” I ask sleepily.

“I thought you’d want me to go back to my room to sleep.” 

“No, stay, please”

Sherlock settles back down and before his head hits the pillow he is gently snoring.


	2. The Toy Box

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The morning after the night before along with the contents of Sherlock's box of toys.

I wake up in the morning, very warm and unable to move. There is a Consulting Detective practically laying on top of me. It’s wonderful. I gently glide my fingers through his soft curls, trying not to wake him. He lets out a contented sigh and snuggles closer somehow. I fall back asleep for another hour when I’m awoken by hands running through my hair. It feels nice.

“Good morning” I murmur, “how did you sleep?” I rub my hand gently up and down his back. 

“Best I’ve slept in years, thank you John.” Sherlock kisses my temple.

I grin. “I’m glad I was able to help. I enjoyed myself as well. So today…” I took a deep breath. “Molly will be bringing Rosie back this afternoon around 3. That will give us some time to go through your box and lay down some ground rules. First off though, shower then breakfast, yeah? We forgot to clean ourselves up last night and I don’t know about you but I’m a bit sticky. Join me?” I smile at Sherlock.

“Right. Of course John. I could use a wash myself…” We go downstairs to the bathroom to shower and get ready for the day.

After, I fill and click on the kettle and fry a couple of eggs apiece along with toast. We eat our breakfast in silence, each to our own thoughts. Grinning at one another off and on. When done I put the dirty dishes in the sink to deal with later. I turn to see him standing behind me.

I clear my throat and look him in the eyes, “First of all, I would prefer for this to be monogamous.”

He nods, “I agree. I have no desire for anyone else.” 

“Really? Good, that’s, um, good. Good. Tell me what you want.”

Sherlock kneels in front of me with is head bowed. “I want to hurt John.” 

0kay. “What else?” I inquire, lifting his chin to look into his eyes

“I want to love it.” He breathes out.

“Okay. Show me what is in your box.” I walk over to the couch to sit.

Sherlock crawls across the floor and opens the box, he then sits back on his heels. I want to have this conversation on even ground. “Come. Sit here.” I pat the couch next to me. As he sits next to me I pick up the crop. “How do you want this used on you? Do you expect me to draw blood? I don’t want to leave permanent marks, you have enough as it is from your ‘hiatus’.”

Sherlock stares at the crop in my hand, “I don’t expect you to draw blood, and I don’t want that. Welts that fade overnight or over a couple of days are preferable.” He reaches into the box and pulls out the rope, neatly wrapped, it’s red and looks like silk paracord. “I prefer to be tied up when hit with the crop.” He still isn’t looking at me.

I reach over and place my hand on his chin to look him in the eye. “Please look at me. It’s all fine. I want to learn how to help you better. Do you prefer your hands tied in front or back?” 

He sighs and relaxes a little. “I prefer the crop used on my back, arse and thighs; nipple stimulation is beneficial. Though my preference is to have my hands tied behind my back. I also have leather cuffs that allow for more movement.” He places the rope bundle on the table and reaches in to pull out the cuffs and place them in my lap.

I place the crop beside the box on the table and pick up the cuffs. “Do you always need the crop when tied up? I can probably think of several ways to distract you without its use…” I know I have a smirk on my face, I can’t seem to help it.

He smiles back at me. “I know John, you are not an idiot. The crop doesn’t need to be used all the time.” Sherlock reaches into the box and pulls out a paddle from the bottom. “I also enjoy being spanked.” He murmurs at me.

“Spanked?” I can’t help the giggle that comes out. “I’m sorry, it’s just imagining you over my lap being spanked like a bad school boy...sorry!” 

“John this is a serious matter!” He scowls at me while placing the paddle next to the crop. I place the cuffs on top.

I try control myself “I’m sorry, I know. It won’t happen again. So you like to be spanked? Just the paddle or do you want me to use my hand sometimes?” 

He glares at me “John… “

“Sherlock… I won’t laugh again, I am truly sorry. Now please answer the question.” 

Thankfully I appease him enough, he takes a deep breath and looks me in the eye. “Both are acceptable and can be used in the same session; hand then paddle.”

“Good, ok.” I reach into the box and pull out what looks like a bit in leather. “Is this a bit?” I ask with a raised eyebrow. 

Sherlock reaches into the box and pulls out another item to hand me. “Yes. That is a bit and this is a ball gag. Though I do prefer to be able to talk, to use a safe word if needed.”

I put the gags on the table. “Ok. Safe word. You have a safe word then?”

“Yes, a safe word. Um…“ Sherlock hesitates

“Sherlock, what is your safe word?”

“Well John, I… It’s, um, uh…ah”

“Yes?” I can’t help but wonder what it could be for him to hesitate so.

“It’s… um, ‘Watson’” he whispers looking at the floor again.

I’m speechless for a moment. “Oh? I, uh, um… I see. Truly? Do you want to continue to use that, uh, then?” I am surprised my voice sounds so normal, my heartbeat quickened and my hand is shaking.

“If you’re amenable, that is” still looking at the floor.

“You can use whatever word you like Sherlock.” I say softly putting a hand over his. He looks at me now. “It is after all, your safe word. It should be something you are comfortable with.” I smile at him. I am truly flattered he chose my last name. He places his other hand over mine and smiles back at me.

I can’t help but lean in and give him a quick kiss. “Is there anything else I should know about Sherlock?”

“Um, yeah.” He reaches into the bottom of the box to pull out clothes pins; they are clipped neatly together in a V formation. He just holds them for a moment then puts them on the table. I’m a bit puzzled, aside from the rope he’s handed me everything else from the box.

I want to know what is different about these. “Clothes pins?” 

“Yeah. I use them for a few things. They make decent nipple clamps…” his voice drops to a low mumbling and I can’t hear the end of the sentence.

“Sorry. I missed that. What was the last bit?” I can tell he’s nervous once more. I try to think where they could be used and my mind rebels at the thought.

“I said they can be used on the scrotum and inner thighs as well.” Not much louder, but loud enough for me to hear. 

“Right. Ah. Ok. I see I have a lot to think about.” The box is empty at this point. “I can do some research online about BDSM. Maybe learn about tying you up so as not to injure you. Can you recommend somewhere?” I start to put the items back in the box but Sherlock takes my hand to stop me. “Yes? Is there more?”

He looks at me in deduction mode for a moment, I must have passed as he smiles at me. “Thank you John. You are being more understanding than I thought you would be.” I’ve never hear his voice so gentle before.

“I’m flattered that you trust me enough with this Sherlock.” We both pack items back in the box. I take the crop and stand up. “I’m going to put on the kettle, do you want some tea?” I walk across the room and give my chair a quick whack with the crop. A large cloud of dust rises up.

From the couch I hear “Maybe not so hard? There is a lot of flex to the crop.”

I look back at him. “Yeah. I see where I’ll need to practice a bit with this.” I raise it up and hit my leg with it. Holy shit that hurt! “FUCK!” 

“John! Are you alright?” Sherlock is at my side.

“Yeah, that bloody thing hurts! It has bit more whip than I thought. I didn’t think I used that much force. Definitely need tea now.” I limp my way over to the kitchen. I leave the crop on the table and fill and turn on the kettle. While waiting for the kettle I wash the breakfast dishes so I can reuse our mugs. Just before the kettle clicks off I try the crop, a bit more gently on my leg again. Much better, with practice I figure I can find a good enough force for pain but nothing excruciating. Sherlock is looking at me from his chair in the lounge.


	3. Confessions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter, I know. Getting the past done with so the future can unfold.

Leaving the crop on the kitchen table, I make a pot of tea. There are a few things I need to tell Sherlock before we go much further. He needs to know the truth. I bring the pot, mugs and his favourite biscuits. I prepare his tea the way he likes, put a couple biscuits on his plate and hand it to him. He thanks me as I prepare my own cup.

As I sit and take a sip I start. “Sherlock, I need to tell you something. You know how hard it is for me to say things like this…” I sit back in my chair and close my eyes for a moment and begin again. Sherlock is looking intently at me.

“My therapist Ella is rather useless even though I keep going back to her. But she did persuade me to do one thing – there are things I wanted to say to you all along but didn’t. I need to say them to you now. 

“The morning we met I almost ate a bullet I was so depressed. No one needed me anymore. I couldn’t be a soldier, I couldn’t be a surgeon; I was nothing, no one, useless. I believe meeting you was the best thing to happen to me. I’ve felt an attraction to you since the lab. I was flirting with you at Angelo’s that first night but you told me you were ‘married to your work’. I did have hope that maybe someday you might change your mind, so I started to date women. As I told you last night, I am not gay but I am bisexual.

“I stopped dating after Jeanette left. She told me I was a great boyfriend, to you, even though we were not a couple. I realized she was right. It wasn’t fair to any of the women I dated, they were always second best to you. I gave up everything to spend time with you; I was never bored.

“It was painful to see you pining away after Irene Adler. When Mycroft told me she was dead I lied to save your feelings. I tried to support you as best I could without letting you know how much pain I was in. Seemed like you wanted to be with her more than me. I was even jealous of Moriarty, he stimulated you so.

“When you jumped off of the roof at Bart’s a part of me died along with you. If it were not for Mrs. Hudson’s concern I would have followed you that first month. I could not get over that you jumped before I could tell you how much I love you. I was a broken man. I visited your grave and begged you to give me one more miracle and come back to me. I tried to heal and rebuild myself around the loss I suffered. I may be whole again someday but I will never be the same. Nor should I be the same, nor would I want to.”

Sherlock “John…”

John “No, let me finish, please…

“After you came back I was a right bastard. I was so happy you were alive but so angry that you lied to me and led me to believe you had killed yourself. I feel horrible knowing I knocked you onto your healing scars. By this time I had met Mary, it was a whirlwind thing that really should not have lasted as long as it did. I just got swept along. She was tenacious and never let go, changing the subject when I started to talk to her about ending it. Nothing compares to you; it wasn’t fair to marry her when I loved you more. It really hit home at the wedding reception during your best-man speech. You did care for me, I was just too blind to see before it was too late.”

I realize I am crying. I just let them fall and continue.

“I cannot forgive Mary for shooting you. She almost, take that back, she did kill you. Your heart stopped twice, once in the ambulance and once in the operating room. It is still a miracle that you came back the second time, your surgeons had given up. I was confused as to why your first word coming out of anaesthesia was ‘Mary’. The fact that she later threatened you… I understand why you snuck out of the hospital the way you did. I just wish you hadn’t opened up your stiches and set your recovery back. It was easier for me to hear Mary say she shot you than for you to accuse my wife. I still do not understand why you did your best to send me back to her though.”

Sherlock quietly “I always come back for you John, I only want to see you safe and happy.” 

John “Yeah? I can’t imagine I would have survived losing you again. Then mess at Christmas with Magnussen. It was painful to see you hauled away in cuffs to possibly never see you again. I thought for sure you were going to tell me you loved me before you boarded that bloody plane. It kills me that I didn’t say it either. I hate to say that I am somewhat grateful for the debacle your sister Euros created. I am sorry for the loss of lives, but it brought you back to me. London needs Sherlock Holmes, as do I.

“I was an absent friend when you needed me. Mary took all of my free time dealing with baby chores; painting the nursery, putting the new furniture together, buying several sets of everything, OBGYN visits. I am indebted you went with us to hospital for Rosie’s birth, your company meant a lot to me. Even though you could not bother to pay attention at Rosie’s christening it was good that you remembered to come. I suspect Mrs. Hudson had a hand it that though.

“When we suspected Mary would run and we put the tracking device in the AGRA flash drive I hoped we would not be able to find her. I couldn’t trust her after all the lying she had done. Who did I marry? Were we truly married if she was using an alias? AJ was the final straw for me… I had enough lies. At that point I was not sure how I could safely leave Mary, I was afraid she would shoot you again if I came back to Baker Street. After she was shot, I was a fucking bastard to you again and I’m not sure why. I didn’t grieve for her the way I did for you; it was much harder to lose you.

“I am so sorry for how I treated you after she died. You didn’t shoot her, it was not your fault. I know that, I had no right to drive you away. I was so angry at everything and everyone. Am I so afraid of my feelings for you that I lash out? I had no right to hit you. I had no reason to doubt your suspicion of Culverton Smith. I should never have doubted your abilities to spot a serial killer. I know you better than that. It was agonizing watching you try and kill yourself with drugs but I was in a bad place myself. No excuses, I do not deserve you. I can’t believe how close my idiocy came to killing us both.

“I volunteered for you to shoot me at Sherrinford. I could not let you shoot your own brother. Course he knew he could not let you shoot me either. I am eternally grateful Eros prevented you from shooting yourself; I could not have survived watching you kill yourself again. I am not thankful for her chaining me in that bloody well with Victor Trevor’s bones though! I am happy you were able figure out how to get me out before I drowned… it was close.

“I don’t know why you keep letting me near, I’ve hurt you so much. I love you more than words can say and I will take your friendship any way I can get it. If you can somehow forgive me I would be grateful.”

Sherlock is crying too I finally notice. “John, my flatmate, my friend. I love you too. I think I felt it from the start but only realized it once it was too late myself. I missed you so much while I was gone. I guess I feared that someone as good as you would never want someone like me. But now I think we have a second chance. I want the life we used to have with you by my side, forever and always.” Sherlock is leaning forward in his chair. 

I find I am doing the same, we are close enough that I can reach out for his hand. “Please remember in the future that when you put yourself into danger you put me there too. If you go off and, get…, get yourself killed. If it were something I could have prevented I’d never get over it. You have to trust me enough to make sure I am with you.”

Sherlock tightens his grip on my hand. “I won’t have you die on my account, I would be lost without you John.”

I squeeze back. “Then you can’t expect it of me either. I have to be there when you need me. You have to let me do that. No matter what or when. That is what it has to be with you and I. We need to trust each other.”


	4. Bruises Fade With Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The flat is coming together. John is learning. Sherlock asks for more.

Several days have passed. Renovations are almost complete, another week, two at the most. We changed the plans from a half-bath into a full one upstairs to make ourselves master suite. We opted to install new flooring and add soundproofing throughout as well. While we were at it we exposed a couple large beams in the ceiling and updated the insulation. 

Through the last of the renovations we are all sharing Sherlock’s room on the first floor. Fortunately Rosie is still in her small cot. Unfortunately we have no privacy. Even with the crowded sleeping arrangements I have been getting through the nights without nightmares, Sherlock looks better rested as well. 

During this time I am researching and practicing rope tying with chairs and Sherlock being a willing test subjects. Just being bound in a Dragonfly Sleeve or Chest Harness seem to calm his mind. I also visited a couple sex shops Sherlock recommended. We’ll have to visit the shops again together. There were a few ‘toys’ I think he would enjoy. I did surprise him by bringing home a blindfold, it’s nice I can still surprise the great Sherlock Holmes on occasion. I am also practicing with the crop, I can use it on myself without leaving lasting marks consistently. That first hit I tried left a welt that lasted for several days.

\---

We with considerable help from a contractor finished the remodel upstairs today. I am finding it amusing how many pairs Sherlock actually has in his sock index. He graciously asked to sort mine so I let him, what harm could it do? I’m looking forward to tonight, our first night alone together in weeks. Sherlock has been buzzing around the flat all day in anticipation.

Rosie is delighted with her room downstairs, we’ll finish redecorating it the next time Molly takes her for a weekend. She and Sherlock are in the lounge reading Treasure Island. She is happily gurgling listening to Sherlock read. 

I’m preparing to start supper when Sherlock’s mobile goes off. Greg, a body, woman, no visible method of death; his third in three months. This victim’s husband found her when he returned from a business trip, he had an air tight alibi. Greg claims it’ll be at least a seven but I have my doubts. Mrs. Hudson is a saint and agrees to feed and watch Rosie while we’re gone.

When we show up at the crime scene Donovan starts in with her normal tirade. “Well hello _Freak_ , what brings you here?” The contempt is evident as is the sneer on her face.

I’ve had enough of this shit. “That’s it Donovan! If you can’t be civil keep your bloody trap shut! We’re here to help you, remember?”

Sherlock is surprised but it is nothing compared to the look on Donovan’s face. “Excuse me?” she lifts an eyebrow at Sherlock “Did your ‘pet’ just defend you?”

That did it. The only other person to call me a ‘pet’ was Moriarty, I’m not going there ever again. “I SAID ENOUGH!” Angry Captains voice. I am delighted to see her cringe. Then I growl at her “I. AM. NO. ONES. PET!” I grab Sherlock by the wrist before either can say anything more and enter the building. For once he has to keep up with me I’m so furious. 

We find Greg in the master bedroom along with a couple technicians collecting evidence. The dead woman is laying in the middle of the bed in a fancy looking lace negligée. Sherlock whips out his magnifying glass and starts looking at everything, starting with the body. 

Greg moves over and asks me “What was all the commotion outside?”

I growl back, a bit calmer than I was “Donovan. She needs to lay off the insults already!”

To me “I’ll give Sally another talking to.” Greg raises his voice so Sherlock can hear “Here we have Marge Hutchins, 36, no kids. Her husband, Scott Hutchins, found her this afternoon after returning from a week long business trip in Bristol. He has a solid alibi, went with his secretary, a Mr. William Stratham. They shared a double suite and all meals.”

When Sherlock is done examining the body I go see if I can find anything. I notice a small needle prick behind her ear and show it to Sherlock and Greg. “Looks like a small gage needle, something used for insulin maybe.” According to Greg neither spouse is diabetic. 

We meet the husband in the lounge, Sherlock murmurs his deduction in my ear. “Early 40s, smoker, drinks too much, works long hours, and doesn’t sleep enough, wears women’s panties.” Sherlock smirks at me then asks Mr. Hutchins “Does your wife have any friends or relatives that come to visit when you are away?”

“Her sister Joan and her wife Shirley Hopkins come most of the time. I thought they were visiting this week but didn’t get here before I left. Marge didn’t mention them when I called. I didn’t think to ask if they had arrived. I called her every night before I went to bed, she liked it when I kept in touch. I talked with her just last night.” He starts to sob.

While looking at the pictures on the mantle Sherlock spoke “The sister in law Shirley is diabetic and most likely the killer.” He’s almost always right.

\---

I am PISSED! Sherlock ran off after a killer once again without backup. I barely managed to keep up with the lanky git at first then lost him when he ducked down an alley. I went straight, apparently the killer did as well. As I rounded the corner I noticed movement out of the corner of my eye and ducked, thankfully. A pipe slams into my left shoulder, I stagger but stay on my feet. As the next blow comes I am able to turn again as the pipe lands just below the last hit. As she pulls back for another strike I am able to wrestle Joan to the ground. I wrench her arm up behind her back, much further and I’ll dislocate it. It’s very tempting, my shoulder is throbbing.

Greg comes around the corner behind me as Sherlock runs around the one in front. They yell simultaneously “John!”

I gratefully relinquish my captive to NSY. As I stand up I realize I am a bit light headed and slide down the wall across from where we were struggling. Sherlock is instantly at my side “John! Are you alright?”

I grimace in pain and growl “No, you git! She struck my shoulder twice with a pipe. Fucking hell it hurts! I can’t tell, I’m going to have to get it x-rayed to make sure nothings broken.” I allow Sherlock to help me up and to the street.

Greg drives us both to Bart’s so I can have my shoulder examined. He stays to keep Sherlock company, and to make sure I’m ok too I guess. They look like they are quietly arguing when I come out with my release papers in one hand and pain meds in the other. Greg sees me first “Ah, you’re back. Nothing broken then?”

“Thankfully, no. Bruising on my bad shoulder, hurts like hell.” I grimace as I try to put my coat on, Sherlock is at my side in an instant helping me. “Thanks” He just nods back, not looking at me.

“I told Donovan to keep me in touch. Apparently Shirley and Marge were having an affair; one of many it seems. Joan found out about it and confronted her sister. She got mad and stabbed her with a syringe filled with air. She died of an air embolism, passed out before she could call for help.” I nod. Sherlock doesn’t react, at all. Greg then continues as we are walking out. “Do you need a ride to Baker Street? Oh, no I guess not then… Good night. I expect you at the Yard tomorrow for your statements.” He says while walking out the door toward his car.

Mycroft must still be following us on the CCTV for there is a black sedan waiting for us outside the A&E. Without a word Sherlock gets in the back and I follow a bit more gingerly. We don’t say a thing, caught in our own thoughts. My anger is simmering all the way back to the flat. I don’t want to have an argument in front of Mycroft’s people.

Mrs. Hudson has heard us come in and lets us know Rosie is sound asleep in her flat. We’ll leave her there until the morning. 

We head upstairs and I lock the door behind us. I try my best not to yell, it comes out as a growl “Two minutes Sherlock! Just two! Greg and the Yarders could have been there in two minutes! But no, you’re too busy running off expecting me to follow. Which I do, because you get yourself into trouble. I’m lucky I ducked or she would have hit me in the head.” I’m shaking, I am so upset.

Sherlock cringes, hangs up his coat and goes in the kitchen to fill the kettle and turn it on. He is still facing the counter.

Still growling “You aren’t going to defend your actions? I asked that you not leave me behind or risk your life. I can’t lose you again Sherlock!” I have followed him into the kitchen. My voice starts to break “I can’t go through that again…”

He turns, he is crying and sobs out “I know John, and I didn’t mean to leave you. I thought you were right behind me. I texted Graham, I tried.” 

I can’t help myself and go over to hug him. “Shhh, calm down.” I rub comforting circles over his back.

After a couple minutes he calms down, lets out a big sigh and looks me in the eye and softly says “I’ve been doing some thinking and I should allow you to have more of a say in my behavior.” 

“Pardon?” I let him go at look him in the eyes.

“I could have lost you today…I, I…, John, think about it.” He looks like he needs to pace. “A reward/punishment regimen, I would have to think about my consequences of my actions more fully. I can’t make the right decisions, I require help.” Almost a whisper “I need you teach me.”

I take a moment, this is a lot to take in. “You’re positive this is what you want Sherlock?”

He looks me in the eyes again. “Yes John, I am certain. I’ve never been more positive in my life!”

The feeling in the room changed. There was a shift in our relationship. Sherlock’s actions had just become my responsibility and I was incredibly nervous about the change. I wasn't the only one. I tilt my head to the side and Sherlock takes a quick step back. I come to attention and bring out my inner Captain “Sherlock.” Sherlock’s pupils blow, interesting.

The kettle clicks off and makes us both start a bit, we forgot all about it. “(Cough) Ok then. Sherlock make a pot of tea and a couple sandwiches then bring it all up to the bedroom. I’m going to shower and get ready for bed.” I do an about turn and head on up the stairs.


	5. With a Whimper

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay, fires in the area are/were distracting.

The hot water feels good on my sore shoulder, even with the pain meds from the A&E it is hurting. I stay under the flow until it starts to run cool, and I get out and dry myself then wrap the towel around my waist. When I walk into the bedroom I am greeted with a vision. Sherlock, in just his black silk boxers kneeling next to the bed where he has placed a tray. As I enter he prepares a cup of tea and holds it out for me. I walk over to the bed and gently sit so as not to upset the tray and take the offered cup. I look at what he brought up and giggle, I can’t help myself.

“Peanut butter and honey on toast, can’t complain. You made sandwiches as I asked. Good boy.” I take a sip of my tea wondering if I have gone too far calling him a ‘good boy’ as though he were a dog. I notice the tension in Sherlock’s shoulders melts a little, okay, not too far, good.

“Thank you John.” He reaches over to the nightstand and hands me an ice pack, one of our larger ones. “For your shoulder.”

I place the ice pack where it hurts the most then take a bite of my sandwich and chew slowly, drawing the moment out a bit “Thank you. You may call me ‘Sir’ or ‘Captain’”.

“Okay Jo…” I raise an eyebrow, “yes Sir Captain Sir”

I break off a piece of the second sandwich and place it on his lips “Open up.” He takes it, chews and swallows.

I unwrap the wet towel and toss it to the foot of the bed and take another bite of my sandwich. “I am in too much pain to do anything tonight and I am still upset on how you left me behind earlier.”

“Jo… Sir?” 

“You didn’t wait for Lestrade and the Yarders to show up, you left me behind… Let’s see, a punishment is in order. What to do…hmmm?” I give him another piece of his sandwich to chew and take a sip of my tea. I then reach over and take another bite of my sandwich, a bit of the melty peanut butter and honey mixture drip out onto my lap. An idea hits me… I quirk a smile at him and take another drippy bite. 

“Sherlock, move the tray to the nightstand” I order. He starts to stand up. “No boy, on your knees” I order. He gives me a look but complies. “Kneel in front of me.” He crawls over, I look down at the drips on my groin then back at him. “I seem to have made a mess. Clean me up.” He starts to turn and reach for a napkin on the tray. I bring back my Captains voice again. “No Sherlock, with your mouth, hands behind your back.” I’m beginning to harden in anticipation and spot he’s starting to do the same.

He looks at me for a moment then complies. Hands behind his back he leans forward and starts to lick the sticky residue off of my cock and balls. I can’t help the moan that escapes. He grins then swallows me down to the root. “Oh God! You brilliant creature, what you do to me.” I moan out. He swallows around my cock then backs off and licks the slit. I notice Sherlock has moved closer and is rubbing against my leg. I reach out with my right hand and grab a handful of curls, bending his head back I growl “You don’t deserve to have an orgasm tonight.” He stops moving. “Move back” I snarl releasing his hair.

I’ve never seen him move so fast. “Yes sir, sorry sir” he says to the floor.

“Your penalty is not cleaning me boy. Your punishment is you not being able to come while you get me off.” I then command “Start again, hands behind your back. You can only use your mouth.”

He nods and starts to come closer again. I put a foot out. “No, use your words boy.” I drop my foot from his chest.

“Yes sir” as he moves back into place, the swallows me down to the root again.

I moan, it feels so fucking good. “Look at you, so lovely with my cock in your mouth.” He groans in appreciation, god that feels even better! “You make such pretty sounds, you can’t get me in deep enough can you? You’re such a pretty cock slut.” He increases suction, damn he’s fantastic at this. I’m not going to last much longer. He’s looking at me though his lashes, his eyes are dark. Sherlock pulls off and licks a stripe up the bottom of my cock then bends lower and draws a testicle in his mouth. He licks up the underside of my cock again then swallows me down to the root again. He bobs his head a few times, running his tongue over the slit. Then swallows me down again.

I come, hard, into the back of his throat. It takes me a few minutes to come back to myself, he’s licking me clean again as I do. I reach down and run my fingers though his soft curls “Good boy, you make me feel so good.” He rolls back onto his heels and looks at me with a pleased grin. “Bedtime, we’ve had a long day.” I rise and walk on rubbery legs to the other side of the bed to get in. He’s still on the floor, his grin is gone. “You didn’t believe me when I said you were not going to get off tonight did you?” I ask, patting his side of the bed.

He shakes his head “no sir” he mumbles getting in.

I feel a bit sorry for him until my shoulder spasms again. “Still hard? Think about your brother, naked. Usually works for me.”

Sherlock grimaces as he pulls the covers up. “Ug that worked Sir.” He shudders, and looks at me hesitantly.

I turn off the light then reach out my right hand “come here” he sidles over and puts his head on my good shoulder. I pet his hair “I’m not that angry you mad genius, if I were you’d be on the couch.” I feel him relax under my hand. “We’ll have to talk more tomorrow about our new arrangement. We discussed the contents of the box, but this goes further” I say sleepily.

“Yes Sir” he mumbles back, he relaxes further into me.

I fall asleep stroking his hair.

\---

In the morning I wake up alone, the bed is cool where Sherlock had lain. The door isn’t closed and I hear a giggling sound coming up the stairs. Sherlock must be down with Rosie. I start to rise and groan as my shoulder lets itself known. I notice a bottle of water and my pain pills on the table next to me. Sherlock must have brought them up, I think to myself ‘this is good’ as I swallow my meds. I rise and do my morning ablutions, dress and head down to see what they are up to. From the looks of the kitchen Sherlock made breakfast for Rosie, porridge and readymade applesauce.

“Good morning” we greet at each other.

“How is your shoulder doing? I made tea, it’s on the counter.” Sherlock says from where he is spooning a bit of mush into Rosie’s mouth. I notice it’s the same pot as last night, he must have brought it down.

“Hurts like hell, the pills are starting to kick in though. Thank you for bringing them up. Have you eaten yet?” I run my right hand through his curls and kiss them both on their foreheads. 

“I was waiting for you. The little lady here was too hungry to wait, sorry.” He gives her a spoonful of sauce. Rosie is kicking her legs and giggling in pleasure. 

“You don’t have to apologize for taking care of Rosie, Sherlock. Since you are feeding her, what would you like?” I respond as I prepare us each a cup of tea.

As I hand his cup over he looks at me “Scrambled eggs, maybe some toast?”

“Coming right up. I was thinking we could take Rosie to the park later if you’re free.” I place a pan on the burner then break eggs into a bowl and start to beat them up.

“We have to go to NSY and give Lestrade our statements, other than that we are free.” Rosie giggles as he flies the spoonful of mush around in a circle for her. He’s so good with her, no one would ever guess the self-proclaimed Sociopath would be so caring.

“Right, good.” I put butter in the hot pan and add the eggs then turn and put bread in the toaster. Breakfast is cooked quickly, by the time I’m finished cooking Rosie is full and Sherlock has cleaned her up. “She makes such a mess with me, what is your secret?” I ask.

He looks at me with a big grin “Not sure, I learned from watching you.” He hands Rosie a stuffed bee toy to play with as we eat. He starts to eat his own meal. “Perfect, thank you” as he smiles at me.

I smile back and I take a sip of my tea “You’re welcome. I was thinking, today I would like for you to think of five things you would like as a reward and five for punishment while we are out. When we get back write them down for me. I’ll do the same and see if we come up with anything similar and examine our lists together later. Agreeable?”

He nods “Yes Captain.” 

“You don’t have to call me ‘Sir’ or ‘Captain’ in front of others, including Rosie if you don’t want. John will do, no need to alarm people. Not sure how Greg would react to you calling me ‘Sir’“. I smile at him.

He looks me in the eyes “I don’t mind, but I believe I will call you John in public especially as we sort this out ‘Sir’. Surprisingly, I slept well last night.”

“That’s good. I wondered if you had slept at all when I got up.” I finish my food and tea.

“Are you done? Would you like more tea?” he asks as he picks up both of our plates.

“I could use another cuppa.” I reply. I start to get up and he gestures for me to stay and picks up the pot and prepares me another cup. I take a sip “perfect, thank you love.” He beams and starts to wash dishes. This is new, I’m not going to jinx it by asking what’s up though. I play a bit with Rosie as I sip my tea. When he is done cleaning up my cup is empty and he washes it as well. 

He turns “I’ll get Rosie dressed for the day, don’t want to stress your shoulder too much. Then we’ll head for the Yard?”

“Sounds like a plan, but let me help get her ready.” 

He opens the freezer and hands me another cold pack. “Put this on your shoulder, I’ll get her dressed.” He picks her up. “We’ll be right back won’t we little Bee” he murmurs at her as they head down the hall.

I nod while I admit defeat, the ice pack will do me good.

\---

Sherlock is wearing the kangaroo harness with Rosie on his chest when they come back out. He pops the icepack back into the freezer then helps me with my coat and grabs his Belstaff and down the stairs we go. I grab the diaper bag in the hall as he opens the door “Do you want the stroller for the park later?” I ask.

He shakes his head “No. I like having her close. If we need to we can come back to get it.”  
Turns and hails a cab out of thin air and opens the door for me, then gets in after.

We ride to NSY, each thinking our own thoughts. Greg is waiting in his office when we get there. Donovan is not sitting at her desk, thankfully.

“Oh hi, glad you could make it in. How’s the shoulder John?” Sherlock hands Rosie over, she and Greg get along. She giggles as he tickles her.

“Hurts like hell, but I can’t complain.”

Sherlock interrupts by asking “Do you need me to write out your statement for you John?” He looks so earnest. Greg is gaping at him, mouth open and everything. 

“Thanks Sherlock. Let me see how it goes and I’ll let you know ok?” I pick up a pen and clipboard and sit, crossing my knees, on the couch and start to write. My shoulder aches but it’s bearable, my writing is more doctor like than normal. Sherlock takes over Greg’s desk, he glances at me after a couple of lines then puts pen to paper again.

“I, um, guess I’ll just go and, um, fetch us some coffee then…” Greg gives us a look before handing Rosie back to Sherlock and wanders out. We continue to write quietly while he’s gone, glancing at one another every so often. When Greg returns with three mugs he stands in the doorway for a moment. “Coffee” he says as he walks in distributing mugs.

“Ta Greg” I take a small sip and put it on the table next to me, precinct coffee is always horrid. Sherlock just nod and ignores his cup.

I finish up my statement, sign the bottom and hand it over to Greg. “Thanks John.” He glances down at the form. “Damn your writing sucks even worse than normal and that’s saying something!”

“Oi, fuck off Greg!” 

“Just saying, your chicken scratch is usually somewhat legible.” He laughs back.

Sherlock rises and shoves his statement at Greg’s chest. He glowers over Greg “John injured his dominant side, which is why I offered to write his report for him.”

Before he can get too far, I call up my inner Captain “Sherlock”. He stops, straitens and takes a step back. Greg looks back and forth between us. “Is that all you need from us Greg?” I ask, motioning Sherlock toward the door. “We have a date in the park planned with Rosie if we’re through.”

“Yeah, we’re, um, ah…, through for now. If we have any further questions one of us will call.” Greg hesitates. “You two alright?”

I respond “Not Donovan though, Greg. I don’t want to deal with her for a while.” I smile at him “We’re good, doesn’t it look like it?” Sherlock is looking at me from the door with one hand on the doorknob the other rubbing Rosie’s back. 

“Yeah, yeah, sure. If we need more I’ll stop by myself.” 

“Be sure to call, make sure we’re not busy. Yeah?” I order back at him. Greg takes a pace back and Sherlock smirks. I’ll have to remember to be more authoritative in the future with both as I grin. I walk to the door as Sherlock opens it. Greg has an odd look on his face again as we leave but says nothing.

We get to the elevator as the door opens and Donovan steps out. She sneers at Sherlock and starts to open her mouth. I clear my throat, she looks at my glare, pales, drops her eyes to the floor and walks by without a word. I think to myself ‘success.’

\---

The taxi ride to Regents Park is uneventful, we’re both in thought. I know I’m thinking about the lists. We decide to wander the Zoo, Rosie loves looking at the animals and I know Sherlock likes to lecture her about all of them. We meander through the Zoo until Rosie falls asleep then make our way across the park for lunch. We both enjoy fish & chips, Sherlock finishing my chips. Rosie is still asleep after the excitement of the zoo. We spend the time talking a bit about everything and nothing in particular.

My shoulder is starting to ache again by the time we finish. I left the pain meds in the bedroom. Sherlock must notice my discomfort. “John, we should head back to Baker Street, you need another pill. Surprised you didn’t bring them with… Anyways Rosie will be more comfortable sleeping in her cot.” He says lowly so as not to wake her.

“Yeah, you’re right, that and an ice pack will do me some good. We can write up our lists as well.” He pays for lunch, leaving a generous tip for the waitress. We slowly wander toward the Clarence Gate to get to back home. 

Mrs. Hudson greets us along with a wonderful sweet-spice smell as we walk through the door. “Oh boys. Good you’re home, I’ve been baking today. I’ll be up with tea in a bit.” As she smiles and heads back through her door before we can reply.

Sherlock puts Rosie to bed, careful not to wake her as I head up our bedroom to grab another pill. I down it with what’s left of the bottle of water from this morning. As I head back down Mrs. Hudson is coming up the stair. When we remodeled we moved the main door to the flat to the landing. 

“I like the door here better.” Mrs. Hudson says as she walks through. “Incorporates both floors of your flat together better this way.” She thanks me as I take the tray from her and walk up the last steps. 

I place the tray in the kitchen and look down the hall, Sherlock is still in the room with Rosie. I head over to the monitor on the mantle and turn it up, he’s singing a lullaby at her lowly. I turn the volume back down and compose myself before turning back to Mrs. H. “That looks lovely Mrs. Hudson.” I wander into the kitchen where there is a cup of tea prepared how I like. I open the freezer, grab a large icepack, pick up my cup and head out to the lounge.

“John, are you injured?” Mrs. Hudson asks as she follows me and sits on the couch.

“Yeah, my shoulder is banged up a bit. The ice helps, brings down the swelling.”

“I can give you some of my ‘herbal soothers’ if you need.” She offers while taking a sip from her cup.

“No. I have some Hydrocodone thanks, just waiting for it to kick in at the mo.” I reply, while forcing a smile towards her. I place the ice back and lean gently into it and close my eyes. 

When I open my eyes again Sherlock is sitting across from me in his chair taking a sip of his tea. “Better?” he asks softly. Mrs. Hudson is smiling into her cup from across the room.

“I will be, remind me if we go out again to take my bloody pills with me.” I answer. It is feeling better already. Sherlock sees me relax a bit before he gets up and heads into the kitchen.

When he returns he has a small plate of biscuits, I failed to take any when I picked up my tea. He places the plate on the table next to me before taking his seat again. “Ta Sherlock” I take a bite of one “These are delicious Mrs. H.” I beam at her, they are fantastic.

“I’m glad you like them dear. They are an old family recipe, Ginger Nuts, I know Sherlock is fond of them.”

He won’t look at either of us as he shoves another biscuit in his mouth and starts to chew. “I guess I better try a few before they disappear then.” I joke at her. I’m starting to feel better now, these are good pills. “We’ll have to order in tonight, I can’t be trusted not to burn dinner with these meds.” I inform Sherlock.

“Chinese ok?” he asks as Mrs. H pipes up with “I have some leftover beef stew, there is enough for all of us.”

“Either is fine with me, they both sound good.” I reply as I nibble another biscuit.

\---

I believe Sherlock and I would have preferred to dine just the three of us but as Mrs. H provided the stew we couldn’t complain about her joining us. Sherlock feeds Rosie gravy bread (well soaked) and some of the vegetables, mashed, from the stew. He points the spoon at the various foods and she waves her hand at what she wants. She seems to like the carrots and potatoes mashed together best.

“Sherlock, you are so good with her!” Mrs. H beams at him and asks us both “Has she started to walk yet?”

“She’s been using the coffee table as a crutch, she’ll be walking any day now.” I answer her back.

“You’ll have to add some cushions to the hard corners, don’t want her to hurt herself.” She replies

“Yeah, I have them.” Pointing to the top of the refrigerator “Haven’t had the time to put them on yet. I still have to pick up a gate for the top of the stairs as well, maybe two if she is to spend time in our room. We did move what was breakable higher up while cleaning up the mess Euros left. Just need to keep her out of the odd experiment now.” I smile at Sherlock during the last.

“Maybe you could fix up 221C as a laboratory and storage space. You could move your old files down there, free up some space.” Mrs. Hudson mentions while glancing at the cardboard file boxes in the far corner.

Sherlock pipes up “That’s an excellent idea!” I raise an eyebrow at him and add “That would be good. No harmful chemicals, raunchy fumes or odd body parts in the flat.”

We talk about possible renovations, mostly between Sherlock and Mrs. H. The delay did give me the opportunity to think more about what kind of rewards Sherlock might like. I brought up items from my childhood I did not enjoy for punishments, keeping him in mind though. For rewards I recall how he reacts when I bring out my authority be it medical or military – the man has a kink or two! Course I’m not complaining mind.

Mrs. Hudson finally goes back down to her flat. She insisted upon washing up the then had wanted to stay and watch crap telly with us but I begged off. I was a bit light headed from my pain meds. Sherlock bolted the doors quickly before anyone else could drop in. 

I pick up Rosie who has been in her bouncy chair to get her ready for bed. Sherlock helps me to bathe her, playing with a rubber duck to make her laugh. As I dry, put a clean diaper and pajamas on her Sherlock goes down the hall. I’ve just put her into the crib and started humming a lullaby as he comes back in with his violin. He listens to what I’m humming a moment and picks up the tune. He gently sways as Rosie slowly closes her eyes and falls asleep. We each give her a quick kiss to her forehead and quietly leave, closing the door.

We head back to the lounge and each pull out a pad of paper and start writing in mutual agreement. When done we hand each other our lists. I am a bit alarmed at some of the items on his punishment list.

Sherlock’s punishment list:  
1\. Denied orgasm  
2\. Cock cage  
3\. Hanging  
4\. Inversion  
5\. Piercings/Needles

Sherlock’s reward list  
1\. Spanking  
2\. Crop  
3\. Bondage  
4\. Fellatio (giving/receiving)  
5\. Rimming

I see Sherlock grinning and frowning at intervals at my lists. Hopefully I am not too disappointing, I have noticed a few ‘things’ through the years. 

John’s punishment list  
1\. Denied orgasm  
2\. Cock cage  
3\. Spanking  
4\. Blindfold  
5\. Chores round the flat

John’s reward list  
1\. Bondage  
2\. Rimming  
3\. Fellatio  
4\. Wax  
5\. Kink (Medical/Military)

After reading Sherlock’s list I speak up “Not bad, we have a few items in agreement. Good, fine. There are a couple that alarm me – I would rather not use any needles or do any piercing at this time. I don’t feel comfortable drawing blood.”

“That’s fine John, we can cross it off and add something else. I would like to avoid inversion as well.”

“Why put it on the list then? You shouldn’t have anything there you are not comfortable with.”  
“Trevor liked to hang me upside-down, he enjoyed flogging me in that position.” He murmurs.

“Trevor? An old boyfriend then?” I can’t help but feel a bit jealous.

He nods “From my Uni days, Trevor Lind. The crop was his. I was with him until I overdosed and he dropped me off at the A&E.”

“Nice guy.” I growl back. I take a calming breath “Is he why you started using?” I inquire. Sherlock isn’t always so open, I’ll gather as much information while I can.

“Yes. He was a terrible Dom, he had to resort to drugs to relax me. Bastard waited until I was helpless then dosed me up at first. I became addicted fairly quickly. That last night he didn’t realize or didn’t care I was already high and dosed me again. I thought he loved me until he dumped in front of the A&E, didn’t even have the decency to take me inside. A passing nurse found me on her way in for her shift. I never saw him after that, I’m sure Mycroft had something to do with his vanishing.” 

“He was a right bastard!” Drugs or no drugs I need a drink. I rise and bring back a bottle of cognac and two tumblers. I pour myself a finger and raise an eyebrow at Sherlock, he shows me two fingers. I hand his glass over and take a sip of mine, the slow burn feels good. 

“So let’s see, I’m crossing of Needles/Piercing and Inversion from your list and Spanking from mine. We both have denied orgasm and cock cage for punishment, hum. For reward Riming, Fellatio. You like to give head as well as receive equally? Interesting. Clarify hanging, you don’t mean like a noose around your neck?”

“No, no noose. Tied up so I am hanging from arms and legs, feet off of the floor. Not a favorite, to be used when I have been extremely naughty. We will have to investigate wax, I’ve never tried that.” He takes a large gulp of his drink.

“Good, rather not do something that could kill you if you don’t mind. I read about ‘wax play’ online, watched a couple videos. There are candles that have a wax that melts at a lower temperature than the average candle. It looked like it would be interesting to try.”

I hand him over the revised lists to look at. “Is there anything you would like to change? We can always revisit them in the future.”

Combined reward:  
1\. Spanking  
2\. Riming  
3\. Fellatio  
4\. Kink (Medical or Military)  
5\. Rope

Combined punishment:  
1\. Denied orgasm  
2\. Cock cage  
3\. Blindfold  
4\. Chores  
5\. Hanging  
He scoffs at me “Chores John, really?”

“It all depends on how you’re made to do them.” I finish my drink. As I rise to head for bed I realize the room is spinning and sit back down, hard.

Sherlock raises an eyebrow at me “Need some help?” he laughs.

“Yeah, shouldn’t have mixed the pills with alcohol.” I slur as I stumble back up. Sherlock rises and helps me up the stairs turning out the lights as we go. 

I drop on the bed as Sherlock starts to undress me. I let him, he kisses along my neck as he opens the buttons on my shirt. In my haze I start undoing his buttons, running my hands and mouth over exposed flesh. I’m losing the battle as he works his way lower, kissing and caressing as he goes. Even in my altered state, I feel myself getting hard in my jeans. I feel fingers gently press on my tumescence through the fabric. I cannot help but press into his hand as I moan in pleasure, it feels so good. “Have I been good Sir?” he purrs as he unfastens the fly.

“Oh God, yes!” I sigh back “You’ve been such a good, good boy.”

I lift my hips as Sherlock takes my jeans and pants off in one go, removing my socks at the same time. He gently runs his hand up my cock from root to tip then follows the path with his tongue. He licks across the slit then sucks on the tip. He takes me in his mouth as he runs his hands up my chest to tease my nipples. I can’t help but arch and moan in delight “Brilliant boy, so good!” He groans in pleasure at my praise, the vibration feels fantastic. He keeps sucking and licking my cock while one hand continues to play with my nipples in turn. His other hand he brings down to cup my balls and press my perineum. Damn he’s incredible at this! 

Somehow I manage to pant out “so wonderful, such a brilliant talented boy…” He groans around me again while taking me deep. After a few moments I can feel the orgasm coming, I warn Sherlock by pulling at his curls but he just takes me deeper and swallows around the tip. That was all I needed as I come down his throat. 

When I get back to myself, Sherlock has taken himself in hand. I mumble at him “Let me, come closer.” As I reach over, it only takes a few strokes for him to come in my hand. I run my clean hand through his hair, caressing as he comes back. When he is coherent, Sherlock reaches down and picks his pants off the floor and wipes my hand clean then turns off the lights. I pull him closer as I cover us with the blankets. I murmur “Such a wonderful talented boy” as we fall asleep curled around one another.


	6. A Bit Not Good

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NEVER mix Vicodin/hydrocodone with alcohol as I did in the previous chapter – not good!

It is dark out when I wake, my head is clear but my shoulder is painful again. Sherlock is gone but it’s still warm where he was laying so he hasn’t been gone long. The bedside clock shows 3:30am, Rosie must be awake and needing attention. I grab my dressing gown and slippers and head downstairs to see what they are up to. Sherlock has Rosie in her highchair and is just sitting next to her opening a jar of pureed carrots as I walk in.

“Oh, John. Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.”

I run my hand over Rosie’s curls then lean over to kiss Sherlock’s cheek. “No. It wasn’t you. I left my pills down here and my shoulder hurts again. Think I’ll forgo the liquor with them this time. Is the pill splitter still clean?”

Sherlock flies the filled spoon around in circles to get Rosie to open her mouth then plunges it in. He’s smiling while doing so. “I haven’t used if for any experiments, so yeah. Should be in the wall cabinet in the loo down here.” At me, then towards Rosie “Such a good girl Bee, eat up.” 

Rosie smiles and gurgles at the praise, kicking her legs. Sherlock prepares another spoonful as I turn to retrieve the splitter. I find myself smiling on my way down the hall. The splitter is where Sherlock said it would be.

As I head back to the kitchen I hear Rosie babble “Shlock” and giggle. Sherlock is tickling her toes when I walk through the doorway. 

“Didn’t know she was trying to say your name, she’s never tried where I could hear before.”

“She’s quiet most of the time, mostly she mumbles. She does say ‘dada’ or ‘daddy’ quite frequently. Sometimes Mrs Hudson is ‘nana’. Mycroft said I didn’t talk until I was three, then it was with complete sentences.” Sherlock gives her another spoonful of carrot, half of the jar is gone already.

“Interesting, she has called me ‘dada’ and ‘mama’ before.” I walk across the kitchen, I left my pills on the counter earlier. “Do you want tea? Not sure what your routine is.” 

“I’d love some tea but don’t need the caffeine. I was planning on going back up to bed with you.” Another spoonful for Rosie.

“I think we have decaf.” I take out a pill, split it and leave half out. I put the closed bottle in the pocket of my dressing gown. “Remind where they are if I forget later.”

“Decaf isn’t tea John. We’re almost done here, Rosie usually falls back to sleep shortly after I feed her.” He motions at my request.

I fill a glass with water, take my half pill and sit on the other side of Rosie. “I’ll finish here if you want to go back up to bed. My shoulder will keep me awake until the hydrocodone takes effect.” I reach over to take the spoon but Sherlock keeps it.

“No, I enjoy feeding her John.” Giving her another spoonful.

“It’s fine, good.” I reach over and cup my hand over his holding the jar. Sherlock tenses under my touch. I adjust my grip to take his pulse, elevated. His eyes are dilated. Interesting. “So good in fact I believe you deserve a reward…” I rise and walk around behind him, leaning in I softly purr in his ear “What would you like as a treat love?” I run my hands over his shoulders and down his chest, kissing behind his ear and along his jaw.

“J, J, John, Sir?” Sherlock stutters out and stills.

“Rosie is done, go upstairs and take something out of your box. Your choice.” I purr in his ear tweaking a nipple through his dressing gown. “I’ll put her to bed and be up shortly.” I run my hands back up his body, along his neck and through his hair. 

He leans into my touch and lets out a sigh and stammers out “y, ye, yes sir” He pops up out of the chair and darts up the stairs.

I can’t help but laugh as I start washing Rosie’s face. “He’s a bit keen, isn’t he little one?” I gingerly pick her up, favouring my left. I bounce her on my right hip going down the hall, I take a quick sniff of her diaper to make sure it’s clean. I hum a lullaby as I lay her down and rub her back soothingly. She falls asleep within a few minutes.

I head back to the kitchen and do a quick clean up. Empty jar to the recycling bin, used glass and spoon to the sink to wash later. I click off the light and head upstairs to see what Sherlock selected. When I enter, Sherlock is kneeling, naked, on the bed, head down, with the red rope in front of him. I lick my lips, “Such a clever gorgeous boy” I praise, close the door and hang my gown next to Sherlock’s.

Sherlock’s blush only makes him more beautiful as does his erection. I stalk over to the side of the bed and murmur in his ear “Beautiful, clever boy. So good” as I pick up the rope. I gently turn him sideways then pull his arms behind him to tie his wrists together. I run my hand through his hair, grabbing a handful and bringing his mouth up for a deep kiss. My other hand I gently stroke up his thigh, up his taut belly to tweak a pert nipple. Sherlock moans and arches into my touch.

While kissing, I gently lay Sherlock on his back and stop, I had an idea. There are a few extra crib pads in the wardrobe, I quickly retrieve one and stretch it out in the middle of the bed over a couple pillows. I help rearrange Sherlock, with his hips over the pillows. He’s giving me a strange look so I explain “The pad will ease clean-up, neither of us will need to sleep in a wet spot.”

“Clever sir” as I resume playing with his nipples, sucking and biting the one while pinching and flicking the other. I climb into the bed between his legs while teasing his chest. I start running my free hand up his thigh to gently cup his balls. I start kissing my way down his body, curling my tongue around his navel. Sherlock is moaning in pleasure, cock leaking pre-come. I run my hands down his legs and back up as I continue to tease his navel until Sherlock begs.

“Please, please sir” he pleads

I run my hands down his thighs and pull them up, almost bending him in half. I lick the tip of his cock then pull the tip in and suck. 

Sherlock is a moaning mess “Oh, J, J, Sir! Please!” 

I run my tongue up his shaft then work my way down and nip and suck my way to his hole. Running circles with my tongue around his puckered flesh reducing Sherlock to moans and groans. Flicking my tongue I push it in rhythm until I feel him start to relax and loosen. I start to fuck him with the tip of my tongue, going as deep as I can with each thrust. The sweating, writhing mess of a Consulting Detective is groaning louder with each push. I insert my finger in along with my tongue successfully rubbing his prostate. 

Sherlock is pleading more and more as I continue to play his body. Moaning, groaning and writhing; several minutes later as I feel him tense up, I take a break. I am met with more begging “Please, sir. Please! God don’t stop, please!”

I lower his legs while gently massaging them. “Gorgeous boy, so responsive. I’m going to take such good care of you love. Don’t worry, you’re going to feel so nice.” I lean down and take his leaking cock into my mouth again as I slip a finger back in to find his prostate. I run my other hand over my own aching erection. I continue lightly sucking, licking and kissing Sherlock’s cock, rubbing his prostate while stroking myself. I feel myself getting closer to my own release. I pull Sherlock as far into my mouth as I can, swallowing around the tip of his copiously leaking cock.

Sherlock comes with a shout, down my throat, I swallow what I can and lick off the remainder. I stroke myself three more times before coming. I collapse for a few moments using his inner thigh as a pillow before gently rolling him over to untie his wrists. I praise him as I do so, “beautiful, gorgeous boy, so sensitive to my touch” over and over, kissing his inner elbows and wrists as I free him. I remove the soiled pad, tossing it over the end of the bed, I’ll deal with it tomorrow.

I gently massage Sherlock’s neck, shoulders, and arms down to his fingertips. I turn off the light and pull the covers over the both of our cooling, sweaty bodies. When I hear his gentle snoring I stop stroking and gently hold him against me as I fall asleep.

\---

We’re woken rather abruptly too early in the morning by a call from Lestrade about a case. Thankfully Mrs. Hudson is home, she’s was not happy about the early morning wake-up any more than I, but she is willing to look after Rosie. 

Once again Donovan is manning the crime-scene-tape when we arrive. Just as she opens her mouth about to insult Sherlock I command “Don’t” while glaring at her. We could audibly hear her snap her mouth shut.

Sherlock turns his back to her to lift the tape for me, I notice he has a smirk on his face. I go under raising an eyebrow at him. He just smiles and follows me to where Greg is waiting for us. 

“Hey, glad you could make it. We can’t make heads or tails on this one.” Greg grins and turns heading down the alleyway. “Guy taking a shortcut found the body, or what’s left of the body. He seems to be missing his head. Wallet’s missing, no id as yet; we’ll have to run fingerprints later.”

Sherlock frowns at Lestrade “Ok, so why are we here?”

“Well, this is the third body missing a head in three weeks. Last two have been Russian mafia blokes, this one has the same tattoo on his wrist as the others.”

I can’t help my indignant question “Mafia? You want to get us involved with the bloody Russian Mafia? Are you fucking insane?” I look at Sherlock in alarm at that spark of interest in his eyes.

Sherlock assures me “We’ll be careful John. Nothing will go wrong.”

I can’t help but snort out a laugh “Yeah, right. I’ve heard that one before.” I turn away, then back towards Sherlock “Shit. We do this only if you promise to be extra careful, no running off on your own! No secrets. No holding anything back. Got it?” I command while maintaining eye contact.

“I understand John, nothing will go wrong.” Sherlock reassures me.

I growl back “It better not!” I take a calming breath “Ok, investigate then. Go on…” I wave may hand toward the body. Sherlock just about skips over to take a look.

Greg is looking at me oddly again. “What?” I ask.

“Nothing” he stammers back 

I nod and wander over to where Sherlock is crouching next to the body. I bend over opposite to have a look myself. As I inspect the scene, Sherlock watches me. “The body was dumped here, not enough blood. There’s another crime scene somewhere.” Sherlock nods and smiles at my statement.

Behind me Lestrade exclaims “What? Another crime scene?”

Sherlock stands and swirls around to face Greg “Yes, this is a body dump. There isn’t enough blood here for the amount of trauma. He was killed elsewhere and left here. Check the CCTV footage, you might be able to find whoever left him here. Let us know when the body is at the morgue.” He turns to me “Come John, breakfast.” I quirk and eyebrow at him and follow. 

\---

Molly unzips the bag on the table, “Meet Thaddeus Knox, 48. Other than missing his head he’s was in excellent shape, nothing in the toxin screen. From what I can see, losing his head is what killed him. There was no trace under his fingernails. I found rust in the wound and a few fibres on his clothes, I have the results in the folder, here.” She passes the file over the body to Sherlock.

Sherlock takes the file and opens it low enough for me to read it with him. “Where the hell would he come into contact with woolly mammoth hair?” I exclaim.

Molly shrugs as Sherlock answers “Museum, though there are traces of dirt on this sample. Siberia possibly, they’re found in the permafrost.”

“Please tell me we’re not going to Siberia.” I bleat.

“Don’t be absurd John. He’s obviously part of a fossil smuggling ring.” He scoffs back.

\---

The next day in Greg’s office. “We are looking for Vincent Camorra, part of the Italian Mafia. If I’m correct, and I’m sure I am, he’s operating out of a warehouse near the Thames.” Sherlock states after going over all the evidence collected.

“Russian mafia and Italian mafia? Fuck Greg! What the hell did you get us into?”

\---

Sherlock has me text Greg with our location but took off chasing one of the suspects before NSY arrives with reinforcements. I lose sight of them as they go around the corner between two warehouses. As I follow everything goes black.

I regain consciousness slowly, my head and shoulders ache. I’m handcuffed and am hung by them from a chain hooked in the ceiling. The room is cool and I find that am stripped down to my pants. No blindfold, chances are I’m not getting out of here alive. “Shit” is all I can think of to say at the moment.

A man in a black 3-piece suit walks into my line of vision. “Greetings Doctor Watson, I’m a big fan of your blog. Allow me to introduce myself, I am Vincent Camorra. I understand you and Mr. Holmes are looking for me.” In a sing-song Italian accent. He walks in a circle around me. “Looks like someone has treated you badly of late, shame” he pokes the yellowing bruise over the scar on the back of my left shoulder. I wince but am able to stifle a moan. “How much do you know about my setup here?” he demands.

I shake my head ‘no’, I don’t know anything and Sherlock didn’t share. “Not going to say anything? Oh, I bet we can get you to talk.” Camorra gestures to a brute in the corner, “Carlyle, see if you can get the good Doctor to talk, eh?” 

The goon, Carlyle is built along the lines of a gorilla – large and all muscle. He aims his first blow to land on the scar on my left shoulder, I can’t help but groan in pain. Around the fifth punch I feel a pop as my shoulder dislocates. I can hear someone scream in agony and I’m afraid it might be me. A few blows later everything goes blissfully black again as I pass out.

\---

I come to on my back, all I can feel is intense pain radiating from my left shoulder. I swear everything is spinning until I realize I’m on a gurney being wheeled through the doors of Bart’s A&E. It’s all a pain filled blur while I’m given x-rays to check for breaks in the shoulder. Finally a Doctor Adams comes in with a couple nurses and arranges to set my shoulder back where it belongs. 

Apparently I passed out again when they set the joint back in. Sherlock is the only person near when I wake, there were three others before. My left arm is immobilized in a sling and I have an IV drip hooked to me as well. “What happened?” I mumble.

“You passed out again” the obviously is kept quiet thankfully. “They were able to set your shoulder without surgery. X-rays show nothing is broken but you do have a concussion from a blow to the head.”

“Yeah, thanks. I meant with Camorra and his goons, did you catch them?” grumbled, more aware.

“What? Oh, yeah. Lestrade took them down to the yard. He’s booking them on assault, multiple murders and antiquities smuggling. They didn’t put up much of a fight considering. I thought mafia types would be more intimidating.” Sherlock grumbles, disappointed look on his face.

I sputter “Wh, what? I found them extremely intimidating. Especially as they had me tied up and were using me as a punching bag!” I practically yell the last part.

Just then Doctor Adams walks in through the curtain and directs her comments to Sherlock, as though I don’t exist. “We’ll be keeping Mr. Watson overnight for observation. He should be able to return home tomorrow if there is someone there who can assist him. He’ll have to keep his shoulder immobilized for at least a week and limit full use for 12-16 weeks. We’ll need to set up physiotherapy to start next week. Apply ice regularly to reduce swelling and ease pain. We’ll give him intravenous anti-inflammatory medication tonight and send him home with a prescription. Someone will be by to take him up to his room shortly. Oh, and visiting hours are over so you’ll have to leave when they take him up.”

Sherlock gathers himself in his most intimidating stance and declares imperiously “Doctor Watson is my partner, I am staying.”

Doctor Adams takes a step back from him. Finally she acknowledges my existence and asks me “Is he?”

“Yeah, he is” I growl annoyed and her bedside manner is not helping.

“Okay, fine then” she glares at Sherlock, “Stay out of the way of my staff then.” She nods and walks out writing something on my chart.

“I’m sorry John...” he begins

“Not here Sherlock. I don’t want to talk about it here.” I take a few calming breaths, “where’s Rosie?”

Sherlock glances at his watch “Molly, she and Mrs. Hudson said they’ll will watch her for however long we’re here.”

I nod. Either what’s in the IV is taking effect or it’s the news my daughter is cared for but I’m feeling more relaxed. Sherlock sees and asks “Are there any long term effects we should worry about with your shoulder?”

Doctor mode is soothing more of my anger “It’ll be more prone to dislocation, have to be careful how I tackle suspects from now on.”

\---

My left arm is still in a sling as we leave the hospital the next evening. Thankfully Molly dropped by last night on her way to work with a bag of clothes Mrs. H put together. Mycroft must be cleaning up a mess elsewhere as there is no black sedan waiting to transport us this time. Sherlock hails a taxi to take us home. He’s restless and can’t keep still, bobbing his knees in the cab. When we arrive in Baker Street, Sherlock bounds out of the cab and practically runs into 221, leaving me to pay the cabbie. When I get up to the flat Sherlock is pacing like a caged tiger.

“Sherlock, you promised you were not going to go off on your own this time. That. Was. The. Deal.” I snarl.

“I don’t see what the big deal is. I was able to find and rescue you, no one else died!” he huffs while continuing to pace the lounge. 

I lose control, frustration and anger overflowing. The crop is lying on the coffee table, I snap it up as he stalks by yet again and strike him with it across his arse, savagely. I’m not sure who is more shocked by the blow, Sherlock or I. He ends up on the floor with an anxious look on his face. I use the tip to lift his chin up “You promised Sherlock! You made a promise no running off, no secrets… you almost got me killed!” I growl furiously. 

“John!” he pleads

“Don’t you ‘John’ me boy!” I command back “Kneel!” he hesitates “NOW!” I roar. 

“Sorry sir!” He scrambles up, wincing a bit.

Guiltily I heedlessly throw the crop, it lands in the kitchen sink. “You broke your promise!” I stalk over to the desk and pick up the lists we made. “Punishment is in order. Bottom drawer, my nightstand, black box, bring it here.” I clip the order, glaring at him.

“Yes sir” to his credit he crawls away and back.

He kneels at my feet and holds up the box for me to take. “Strip boy” I walk to the kitchen. I take the crop out of the sink and slap it onto the table. Then fill the kettle and turn it on and wash what was in the box. I lean against the counter trying to calm down more as I wait for the kettle. I run one of the calming exercises Ella recommended until the kettle clicks off. Feeling better, or at least calmer, I prepare myself a cup of tea. 

Taking a deep breath I grab the cleaned items and walk back to where Sherlock is kneeling.

“You have the option to safe-word me.” I open my hand and show him a clear plastic cock cage.

Sherlock looks at what I am holding and shakes his head ‘no’ “No Sir, no safe word” he mutters.

I nod “Good. Put it on.” Sherlock sets the ring and cage in place then I lock it, one handed, putting the key in my pocket. “Follow me” I do an about-face and march down the hall to the loo. “I want to be able to eat off every surface in here Sherlock. Cleaning supplies are under the sink, start scrubbing.”

I’m getting a look of horror. “Chores Sherlock, you agreed. Start scrubbing, don’t make me say it again. You may put pants on for protection.”

“Y, yes sir” as he starts to gather supplies.

I head back to the lounge with my cooling tea and an icepack. I’m mortified for having hit Sherlock so hard with the crop. Fuck, between pain and guilt I can’t relax. I hear an odd noise from the bathroom… and again.

I rise to investigate “Sherlock, are you alright?” I ask as I arrive at the door. I am so utterly surprised by what I see in front of me. “Oh god!” Sherlock is curled up on the bath rug sobbing. I drop down and pull him to my right side rubbing his back. “Shhhh. It’s okay” I soothe, “everything is fine. If this is about earlier I’m so sorry for hitting you in anger. I have no excuse.”

“I can’t lose you John, I won’t survive without you.” He sobs out, shaking against my side. 

“Shhhh, I’m not going anywhere, afraid you’re stuck with me love.” He cries for several minutes as I hold him against me whispering reassurances and rubbing his back with my right hand. When he’s finally breathing regularly and relatively calm I ask “Feeling better then?” he nods into my neck. “Good, help me up off the floor then. You can clean tomorrow, we’ve been through enough the last few days, yeah.” 

Sherlock gives one more shuddering breath and helps me rise. “No sir, I’ll do this, you go rest.” I start to leave “wait, sir” Sherlock wets a flannel and washes the snot off of my neck.

“Thanks.” I cup his cheek in my hand and give him a chaste kiss. “I’ll be back to inspect your work in an hour then.”

“Yes sir”

I wander back to the kitchen to start the kettle boiling again. I go into the lounge, click on the telly, grab my mug and head back to make a cuppa when the kettle clicks off. I watch crap telly, not really paying attention, sipping my ever cooling tea for the next hour. I wander down the hall to a vision of Sherlock’s glorious naked arse peeking out the doorway. “Hey handsome boy, coming to check your work.”

Sherlock rocks back to sit on his heels to let me see his progress. “Impressive” The room has never looked this clean before. “How much more do you have to finish?”

“Just this last bit by the door. I started with the toilet, sink and shower then the floor Sir.” He says demurely.

“Good boy. When you’re finished come up to the bedroom, I’ll need help to shower and get ready for bed.”

“Yes sir” he starts scrubbing again.

I wander back to the lounge, turn off the telly and collect my cup. Turning off the light in the lounge I leave my cup in the sink. I grab an icepack from the freezer and head upstairs to our bedroom. I end up waiting for Sherlock while lying against the headboard, icepack on my shoulder. I don’t hear him come in as I had fallen asleep, I never did sleep well in hospital. I’m woken by him gently removing my jeans. 

“Sorry sir, didn’t mean to wake you.” He apologizes

“No, no it’s good love. I did tell you to come up and help me and I would like a shower.” I rise and Sherlock follows me our bathroom.

Sherlock strips me of my clothing and the sling. By the time I rinse the toothpaste the shower is running and the temperature is perfect. 

I can’t help but become aroused as Sherlock massages shampoo and then conditioner in my hair. The intense stare he gives me as he slowly lathers up my body is more than I can handle. I reach up my right hand, cupping the back of Sherlock’s neck to bend his head down for a kiss. Our tongues are rolling over one another as the passion heats up when I forget about my shoulder. I pull back when my shoulder spasms “Oh Fuck!” Desire vanishes, my cock softens.

Sherlock forgets himself “John! Are you alright?” he’s alarmed by my pain.

Cradling my left arm with the right, “I lost myself in the moment and moved my left arm” I grit back through my teeth in pain. “Let’s just finish up in here so I can get back into the brace and take more anti-inflammatories.” 

“Y, yes sir. Are you sure you’re alright?” asked worriedly as he gently moves me back under the spray of water to rinse off.

“Just have to remember not to move my arm too much. Forgot in the heat of the moment, I’ll be fine. Let’s finish and go to bed.” 

\---

We’re still in bed when I receive a text from Lestrade, he needs me to come in and give my statement as soon as I’m able. Sherlock agrees to come with me, we can pick up Rosie from Molly on the way home as well. 

We step out of the elevator and are greeting by Donovan. “Ah, the Freak and his little Pet. How quaint!” She sneers, the disdain is just oozing out of her pores.

“If you’ve forgotten why you hate me, you’re in luck! I’m about to give you a few more reasons.” I growl back at her.

“DONOVAN!” Lestrade barks “Go home, I’ve warned you enough! How many times are you going to have to attend ‘sensitivity training’ until it clicks?” She’s just standing there agape, “Move! Now!” 

Donovan stalks off toward her desk, swearing under her breath. 

Sherlock and I follow Lestrade to his office, he closes the door. I couldn’t help but notice Sherlock was walking a bit strange. “You alright?” He looks me in the eye, flick down to his crotch and then back up. “Oh! Okay, right, never mind.” He’s still wearing the cock cage, must have gotten excited about Donovan getting called out finally. I really can’t help the grin that forms.

Lestrade watches the exchange. “Alright, what’s going on with you two? You’ve been acting strange for a couple weeks now!” He demands.

I look at Sherlock, he gives a subtle shake ‘no’ of his head. I reply “Nothing’s up Greg, we’re perfectly fine.”

“Yeah, I want to hear Sherlock say he’s okay. He’s behaving the oddest. John isn’t beating you up again is he?”

I stiffen at the challenge in his tone. Sherlock starts to laugh “Oh Lestrade, if I didn’t want John to do something do you really think I’d let him?” He continues to laugh and give me a subtle wink without Greg seeing it. 

“Can we get on with it now, or do you want to take him away for questioning?” I grumble at Greg.

“No. You two have been behaving differently. You’re more assertive and now he’s wincing. I want to know what’s up dammit!” Greg waves his hand between us as he speaks.

“There’s nothing you need to worry about.” Sherlock and I say at the same time “There’s nothing ‘up’.”

“Why don’t I believe you two? Alright, I’ll drop it for now.” Greg takes a deep breath “John, I need your statement from when you were taken by Camorra and his men.” He looks at my arm in its sling. “You can dictate it while I write.” Greg walks behind his desk and pulls out a form. “Sherlock, why don’t you sit and take it easy while I get John’s statement?”

I know from the cab ride over Sherlock’s arse is sore from the strike I gave him last night. He shakes his head slowly side-to-side “I don’t feel like sitting” a bit sheepishly.

Greg looks at him suspiciously again. Before he can start demanding answers again I pipe up “Where do you want me Greg? Let’s hurry it up, we need to pick up Rosie from Molly before she goes to work. That and I’d really like to get home again before my pain meds wear off.” I end up ordering.

Greg looks at me again “See, that’s what I’m talking about!” he waves his hand at me.

I glare him in the eyes “Greg I am a retired Army Captain, it will come out occasionally! Now are you going to take my statement or not?” I charge. Out of the corner of my eye I see Sherlock wince again; military kink 1, Sherlock 0.

Finally Greg’s shoulders slump in defeat “Right, okay. John why don’t you sit here.” Indicating the chair in front of his desk. “Now tell me all you remember from when you contacted me.” He grabs up his pen, poised ready to write.

I sit in the offered chair, Sherlock leans against the back to my right. It doesn’t take too long to tell my tale. To their credit both men cringe when I get to where Carlyle dislocates my shoulder. Sherlock gives a gentle squeeze to my right shoulder when I mention passing out and waking up in hospital. Greg blanches but keeps writing. 

“Damn John! Here read this and sign it at the bottom.” Greg slides the report over for me to scan. Looks good so I sign with my right, even I don’t recognize my signature. “Oh, and initial here since you dictated it to me; I’ll have to as well” pointing at another spot on the form. “Alright then, done and done. Hope the shoulder feels better soon John. We can meet for a pint when you feel up for it, Gloucester is playing Exeter next week.” He opens the top drawer of his desk and hands over an evidence bag. “We found your wallet in the warehouse, your clothes are still in evidence lockup.”

“Ta Greg. I’ll probably stay close to home for a while.” I look up at Sherlock “Ready to go love?” He squeezes my shoulder again and nods, taking a step toward the door.

Just before Sherlock opens the door Greg gets in one more comment “If either of you need someone to talk to, I’m always available.” 

This time Sherlock answers with pure scorn “We’re fine Lestrade, drop it already.” He opens the door and marches toward elevator without a backward glance.

I wave my free hand to Sherlock’s retreating back “Right, well...I’ll just…” Sherlock, thankfully waits for me at the elevator. “He suspects something is different with us, but can’t figure out what. I wonder what he’d think if he really knew.” I wonder at Sherlock.

“I’d rather everyone not know what we do in the privacy of our home and that includes Greg.” Sherlock takes a slow deep breath and leans down “By the way, you never did say how long I have to wear this blasted cage sir” he murmurs in my ear. 

I’m smiling as we ride down in the elevator “I was thinking a day for each punch from Carlyle, but I can’t recall the exact number. Behave today and we can readdress it tonight. Let’s go collect Rosie from Molly, yeah?” I squeeze his hand and let go just before the doors open.

\---

Sherlock steps up and cares for Rosie and me without any prompting. He goes so far as to take Rosie with him when he went grocery shopping. While he’s gone Mycroft comes to visit, I can’t help but wonder what he wants from me this time.

Mycroft walks in without knocking “Doctor Watson, tut, tut, injured again I see.” He sits in Sherlock’s chair. 

I sigh, we need to change the locks, again. “Mycroft. Sherlock left with Rosie a few minutes ago but you probably already know that. What can I help you with today?” sarcasm is my friend as I sip my cup of tea.

Mycroft tilts his head and gives me a penetrating gaze. “I am just checking up on you and my dear brother. I do still worry about him after all. I have information that he is acting strangely of late, I wonder what that is all about.”

It works on one Holmes brother, maybe it’ll work on the other. I sit up straight, stare him in the eyes and order “There is nothing wrong, leave it be.”

“We will see.” Mycroft gets up and starts to leave, freezes, as he stares into the kitchen. The crop is still on the table where I left it last night. Shit! He turns to look at me again, thankfully I had just enough time to conceal my reaction. 

“That’s Sherlock’s, he’s had that since we met.” I smile as I fondly recall the memory “He left after deducing me to grab his crop that he left in the morgue. He leaves it in the oddest places, found it the shower once…” I’m trying for nonchalance, not sure if it’s working or not.

I almost sigh in relief as I hear the door open followed by a high-pitch giggle from Rosie. “What are you doing here Mycroft?” Sherlock gently places Rosie on the couch at my right.

“Good to see you too brother dear. Being domestic? How quaint” Mycroft points the tip of his umbrella at the shopping bags “I did not know you had it in you. I came to see how you were, been getting reports you were behaving… strangely.”

“Tell Lestrade to keep his nose where it belongs! There is nothing here to interest either of you. I am perfectly fine.” Sherlock stalks into the kitchen to put away the groceries, he takes a half step when he spots the crop but continues.

“I will always worry about you, I needed to see for myself.”

“Old habits die hard Mycroft, even you know that.” Sherlock quirks an eye brow at Mycroft

“How long?” Mycroft asks while looking at me. I sit, glaring back.

“Couple weeks.” Sherlock answers. It finally dawns on me Mycroft must know about Sherlock’s ‘kink’.

Mycroft quirks an eyebrow back at Sherlock. “We’re careful. I trust him Mycroft.” Sherlock replies to the unanswered question.

“I am always there for you if you need me Sherlock.” With that statement Mycroft leaves us.

\---

I may just have to make today an annual celebration as Sherlock come back with edible food including milk! At the moment Sherlock is in the kitchen preparing dinner, I didn’t know he had it in him. “I didn’t know you knew how to cook” as I lean against the kitchen door “What are we having?”

“Cooking is just science John. I didn’t always survive on takeout and toast. I have a chicken to roast along with assorted root vegetables and a salad.” The smell from the oven smells good already. Over by the sink is a pile of greens.

“Sounds good.” I watch Sherlock with one eye and Rosie playing with her blocks on the floor with the other. “Can I do anything to help?”

Sherlock thinks for a moment “Can you make a dressing for the salad with one hand?”

I smile “That I can do.” I walk in and grab a clean, empty, lidded jar, brace it against my body and open it. So far so good. I place it on the table so I can still keep an eye on Rosie in the lounge. Sherlock was using the olive oil and places it on the table next to me. I grab balsamic vinegar bottle and a few herbs and spices. Sherlock starts to wash the greens for the salad behind me. I gently bump his butt with mine on purpose “You’ve been a very good boy today” I say softly.

He takes a deep breath “Thank you sir” he replies tenderly.

About the time I finish putting what I need in the jar and try to seal it, Sherlock is done washing the greens. He leans against my back and reaches around me carefully to hold the jar while I tighten the lid. “Thanks” I kiss his cheek “just needs a good shake when you’re ready to use it.” 

His arms are still around me, holding me from behind. I gently lean back into his touch. Sherlock’s arm snakes around to hold me gently across the chest and one hand over my stomach. His hot breath is on my neck as he kisses me working his way to gently nibble my earlobe “thank you sir”. He moves away to continue working with the greens. I can’t help but feel something is missing. I supress a moan, collect myself and step into the lounge with Rosie. I haven’t taken anything and yet I’m feeling a bit intoxicated. I can tell it’s going to be a long night. 

Sherlock finishes what he needs doing in the kitchen and comes out to be with Rosie and me. I look up from the floor next to her “Sherlock, it’s been awhile, play something for me?”

He beams a smile “Anything in particular sir?”

“Surprise me” 

Sherlock lifts his violin and gives it a quick tune, rosins up his bow and starts to play. I think its Bach but I wouldn’t bet on it. Rosie sits quietly transfixed by the melodies coming out of the violin. Sherlock plays one song after another for nearly an hour, slowly rocking in time; gorgeous. When he finishes the flat seems too quiet, even with Rosie clapping and laughing in delight. 

Sherlock stores his violin out of Rosie’s reach and goes to check on supper. 

\---

The chicken is excellent, better than mine. Sherlock and I take turns feeding Rosie small pieces of chicken and smashed vegetables. 

 

After dinner I watch as Sherlock gives Rosie her bath and puts her to bed. We’re both by her cot humming a lullaby as Rosie falls asleep. I hid the key to Sherlock’s cock ring in Rosie’s room, I wonder how long it will take for Sherlock to deduce where I placed it. I whisper “Grab the key before you leave, I’ll be waiting upstairs.” I do an about turn and leave.

Longer than I anticipated, Sherlock runs up into the bedroom where I’ve been waiting. I prepped the bed with a pad for easy clean-up later. I am laying crosswise on the bed, the pillows to my left, been here long enough to get overly comfortable and a light nap in. He’s standing next to the bed near my head holding the key in his hand. “Ah, found it did you. Good boy. Help me take a shower. Oh, bring the key” I carefully rise and swagger into the loo.

There’s a quiet “Yes sir” behind me.

I’m able to remove my jeans and pants one-handed. I do need some help with my sling and shirts, especially for the next few days. Sherlock steps up without asking, after yesterday, I’m thinking he’s extra eager to please me. “Did you have any trouble finding the key?” as I reach for my toothbrush.

“No sir. I finished the dinner dishes, put the rubber bumpers on the coffee table and started Irish oats soaking for breakfast.” As Sherlock reaches for his own toothbrush. He adds toothpaste to both toothbrushes. He leaves the key on the counter between us.

“Good, very good. I should lock you in a cock cage more often.” I joke back with a smirk. I brush my teeth, rinse then run my right hand over the stubble on my chin. “I’ll have to try shaving right handed again tomorrow…”

Before I can finish that thought “I can shave you if you need, I’d be honoured sir. Now if you like.” A bit hurried.

“Bit eager. Don’t you like my bristly kisses?” still smiling “Okay. Where do you want me then?”

Sherlock flips the lid on the toilet down and places a folded towel on top as a cushion “Here is good.” 

I’m careful to keep my left arm still as I sit. Can’t help but feel a bit aroused and nervous all at once. I completely trust Sherlock, but I’ve never let anyone else shave me while conscious before. Sherlock wets down a flannel with hot water, wrings it out then places it over my whiskers. Hot but it feels good so far. “Leave that on for a bit, it will soften the whiskers sir.”

“Should do this after the shower then…” I start, only to be interrupted again.

He leans forward and whispers in my ear “I hope to be doing something else after the shower sir.” Nipping my earlobe as he straightens. I’m going to lose control quickly at this rate, I’m already half hard. 

Sherlock readies shaving cream and picks up a straight razor. He turns, takes the flannel off and applies a layer of cream over my warmed whiskers. He leans forward again and sensually “stay still sir, don’t want any accidents.” Sherlock runs the blade down my face, wiping the razor clean at the end of each swipe. Over and over he works the blade over my face, look of complete concentration on his features. When I think he’s done he warms the flannel again and removes any cream residue.

I feel my chin, “Smooth, thank you!”

“I’m not done yet. Once with the grain, once against. Stay still please.” The intense look is back as he applies another layer of cream. The blade is worked against the grain, up, this session. Once again he warms a flannel to remove any residue of the cream. “Now we’re finished.” He steps back and starts to clean up the mess. 

I feel my chin again, “Smoother, amazing! Thank you!” I’ve never felt so smooth before, I like it. “Shower time.” I rise and head over to turn on the water as Sherlock finishes putting away the shaving supplies. “Bring the key over when you’re done.” Sherlock quickly straightens himself upright from leaning over the sink. He grabs the key and hurries to my side, I can’t help the smile I have at his haste “Bit enthusiastic yeah?”

“Sir. Please sir.” He holds out the key for me in his palm.

I command “Hold the lock still.” I turn the key and remove the lock. “In the shower, wash the cage and yourself thoroughly. I want you clean enough to eat off of boy.” Captain Watson is aroused.

Sherlock just about jumps into the spray of water in the shower, reaching down to remove the cock cage at the same time. I follow, giggling, at a more leisurely pace, being mindful of my left shoulder. Sherlock reaches for the shampoo as I close the curtain and step under the spray. He starts to wash my hair before I can even ask; the massage feels like heaven. Sherlock gently moves me under the spray to rinse then massages in conditioner then rinse again. He wets a clean flannel and adds body wash and starts to clean me gently all over. I am enjoying the sensation immensely as Sherlock can tell when my hard cock brushes against his thigh. Sherlock positions me under the spray again as he starts to lather himself, slowly, erotically.

When he’s sudsy all over I’ve had all I could handle, I need some relief. “Kneel boy, suck me” I order.

Sherlock drops so quickly he must have bruised his knees. He takes my tumescence in hand and gently runs his fingers up the underside and over the tip. I bite back a moan. His fingers are followed by his tongue. I can’t supress the moan of pleasure this time. He smiles up at me then takes me into his mouth and sucks, hard, flicking his tongue over the slit. My knees feel weak, I lock them so I don’t fall and reach my right hand to brace against the wall. 

I get lost in the feeling of Sherlock licking and sucking. His hands are running up and down my legs, chest and cupping my bullocks. I can feel myself getting closer to release, I don’t want to come yet though. Just before it’s too late I cry out “Stop!” He releases me with an audible popping sound. “Good boy, finish washing yourself” as I step back to allow him under the spray. 

When done Sherlock turns off the water and grabs a towel to start drying me off. He gently pats my left shoulder and allows me to move my arm as he dries it. When I’m dried off he wraps the damp towel around my waist. He helps me back into the brace to keep the injured shoulder immobilized. He looks like he is as hard as I am as he grabs a dry towel for himself. 

“Since I can’t tie knots very well one handed, grab your leather cuffs. Bring the bag on top of your toy box too.” I murmur into his ear when he bends down to dry his legs.

Sherlock practically runs into the wardrobe where we hide his box from prying eyes. I hear the rustle of the bag and the box lid shut as I walk to the bed. He hurries back, trying not to look too eager. I can’t help but grin at his enthusiasm.

“Brace the cuff while I buckle it.” I secure the left “again” then the right. “Face down on the bed, arms over your head” I command. Sherlock launches himself onto the bed to get into position. I can’t help but laugh out loud.

I take out a couple of short pieces of rope with loops tied in each end and 2 carabiners from the bag Sherlock brought. I one-handed place a length of rope around the foot of the bedframe under the headboard, running one loop through the other effectively securing it. I clip a carabiner to the free end and place it on the corner of the mattress next to Sherlock’s left hand. I go around the bed to repeat the tie on the right side of the bed. “I’m going to tie you to the bed with the cuffs. Do you remember your safe word?”

“Yes sir, it’s ‘Watson’ sir.” He promptly replies moving his hands closer to the clips.

I run my hand up his right forearm “Good boy” I hook the carabiner to the D-ring on the leather cuff. I walk around the bed to do the same to the left arm. “Such a beautiful boy, so gorgeous. Such a helpful boy.” I slap his left butt cheek, he gasps, I caress where I hit him. I slap his right cheek then caress again. “So good, such a good handsome boy.” I continue to smack, caress and praise until my right hand is as red as his arse cheeks. 

I flex my fingers, my hand has had enough. I reach down and unclip one arm, walk around the bed to undo the other. To Sherlock’s confusion I command “On your back”. When he complies I clip him back to the rope again. “How is my beautiful boy doing, you’ve been too quiet.” 

He slowly looks at me and lightly slurs “S’good, good” with a silly grin.

“Good boy, spread your legs for me.” Sherlock moves slow but he does as I command. “Good boy, such a handsome boy.” I carefully climb onto the bed one-handed, settling myself between his legs. His cock is prodigiously leaking pre-come, he seems to engorge a bit more as I am looking at it. I like my lips in anticipation, lean down and curl my tongue around the tip. Sherlock’s hips jump at the sensation. “You’ll have to stay as still as you can for me babe.” 

He sluggishly nods. Sherlock’s pupils are so blown his eyes are practically black. “Good boy. Hold still now.” I lean down with my right hand on his hip to help hold him still. I lick the underside of his cock from root to tip sucking in the tip when I reach it. I curl my tongue around the tip of his cock, slipping the tip into his slit. Finally he moans. I take him deeper into my mouth, bobbing up and down as I take more and more with each decent. 

Sherlock is shaking his head back and forth, moaning in pleasure. Arching his back as I swallow around the tip of his cock. I hum in appreciation, remembering how good it felt to me when Sherlock did the same to me. More moans of pleasure, he’s sweating and turning a beautiful shade of pink. I continue to lick, suck and bob. I’m starting to feel neglected, but there isn’t much I can do about it while reduced to one hand. I moan in frustration around Sherlock’s cock. I can tell he’s getting close. I swallow him down as deeply as I can again and swallow around the tip, and again. Come up for air and do the same. The fourth time I swallow him down Sherlock comes down my throat with a yell. I swallow what I can and lick him clean.

While he’s still coming down from his pleasure I’m able to unhook him form the ropes and manage to remove the leather cuffs. I sit next to him to rub his shoulders, upper arms and chest one handed. He looks sleepily at me “thank you sir”.

“You’re very welcome. When you’re ready I’ll need you to suck me off.”

Sherlock moves faster than I would have thought “Yes sir, right away sir!” Taking the tip of my cock in his mouth and gives a hard suck. He knows I love that manoeuvre. Sherlock swallows me down, curling his tongue around my hard shaft. Damn, he fantastic at this “Good boy, you are so good at swallowing me down. Damn you’re so pretty with my cock in your gorgeous mouth.”

Just as I was aiming he moans in appreciation around my cock. I feels fantastic. I’m so close. Sherlock takes me as deep as he can and swallows around the tip. That’s it, I’m seeing stars I come hard with his name on my lips.

Sherlock is clicking off the light and pulling up the covers when I come back to myself. He’s lying on my right side. I reach over and pull him into me so we can cuddle while we slowly fall asleep entwined. 

“Such a good, clever boy” I murmur in his ear as he falls asleep with a smile on his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Greetings all,
> 
> This is the end of this section. Should have waited to write the whole thing before posting, kept wanting to go back and change things. I am more of an editor than a writer. I may add to the series in the future but will only post when it’s complete, I want to know what happens too. Live and learn. 
> 
> I meant to have this finished earlier but life events have been distracting of late. I live in N California, USA, near the fires; had friends lose their homes. We’re housing dogs for evacuated and burned-out friends. Thought we lost the one friend for almost 2 weeks before we finally located her safe-and-sound. Bit of a stressed out mad house around here lately.
> 
> On a good note, I’ve started writing another JohnLock with over 24,000 words. Odds are it will double or triple (maybe more?) by the time I’m done. I’ll post it when finished. I have several other tales loosely outlined as well.
> 
> Thanks for the kudos, comments and just reading,
> 
> WestYellowGroom = DW


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